


Castiel's Adventures In Babysitting

by Browniesarethebest



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Baby Sam Winchester, Castiel is not cut out for this job, De-Aged Dean Winchester, De-Aged Sam Winchester, Gen, John Winchester's A+ Parenting, Mute Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-07
Updated: 2019-09-22
Packaged: 2019-10-05 20:34:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17331890
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Browniesarethebest/pseuds/Browniesarethebest
Summary: Sam and Dean are de-aged by a witch, and it's up to Castiel to figure out how to turn them back without accidentally killing them first.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I was gonna wait until I had more chapters written, but I'm impatient so here we are.
> 
> I promise I'm working on my other fics too, but I had to write this after I got back into Supernatural.
> 
> Enjoy!

Dean woke with a quiet gasp. It took a moment for the dream to fade (his home blowing up along with Mommy and Daddy and Sammy) and then he realized something was wrong.

This was not the room he had fallen asleep in.

He had fallen asleep in one of the yucky motel rooms that Daddy had taken them to, Sammy lying beside him. The room he had woken up in was a child’s room, like the one he had before the house— _MommyMommyMommy_ —burned. He was in a small bed with light blue sheets and a dark blue comforter. Everything was soft and warm—nothing like the thin, scratchy blanket in the motel that made Sammy cry if it rubbed against him too much. The walls were also a light blue, and clouds were painted onto the ceiling. There was a bookshelf filled with children’s books, and toys littered the ground.

Dean was looking around, confused out of his mind, when he suddenly realized that Sammy wasn’t with him. His breath caught as his head shot around, trying to find his brother. Daddy would be so mad if Dean lost him!

Just as he was about to start crying, the door opened, and a woman walked in with Sammy in her arms. Dean pulled the blanket up to his chin nervously as the woman approached and kneeled in front of him.

“Hi, Deanie.” The woman smiled sweetly, but it did nothing to ease Dean. Who was this woman? Where was Daddy?

The woman waited a few moments for Dean to answer. When he didn’t, she gently held out his brother. “Do you wanna say hi to Sammy? He’s been waiting for you all morning.”

Dean’s eyes shot to the baby’s, and he relaxed. Sammy seemed fine, smiling around his pacifier as soon as he saw Dean. Dean reached out and gently pet his brother’s head.

The woman smiled and stood, holding out her hand to Dean. “You can play with your brother later. For now, it’s breakfast time! Mommy made pancakes!”

Dean tilted his head. Mommy? This wasn’t Mommy. He looked towards the door, hoping his Daddy would walk through at any moment and take him and Sammy home. Where was his Daddy?

Dean’s stomach growled. He looked up at the woman’s eyes before looking back down at her hand. Daddy said never to talk to strangers and to be really careful because there were monsters that would want to take them away just like they took _Mommy_ away. Was this lady a monster? He bit his lip as his stomach growled again.

Dean did like pancakes…

He hesitantly laid his hand in the lady’s, causing her to beam at him. He jumped out of the bed and let her lead him out of the room. Dean looked around as they walked through what seemed like a normal house. They passed a nursery that Dean assumed was Sam’s as well as a couple of closed doors. Something was off about the hallway, though. Dean didn’t have time to think about it as the woman led him downstairs and to a kitchen, where a stack of pancakes were waiting on the table. Dean licked his lips. They did look good.

The lady put Sammy into a highchair and then lifted Dean into a booster seat. Dean had frozen when the lady touched him and didn’t relax until the woman set a plate of cut up pancakes in front of him.

“Would you like syrup, sweetie?”

Dean nodded and watched her warily as she poured a generous amount onto his pancakes. She handed him a small fork (like the ones Dean always got to use at home before it burned—now he had to use the grown-up forks) before turning to Sammy and picking up a bowl and small spoon. Dean watched her as he ate, making sure she didn’t do anything to hurt Sammy.

When the lady finished feeding Sammy, she turned back to Dean and smothered a laugh. She stood and went over to the sink, where she wetted a washcloth before coming back over. “You’ve got syrup all over you, Deanie!” The woman chortled as she wiped at Dean’s face, much to his discomfort. When he was clean, she picked him up from his booster seat and set him on the ground. She turned and wiped at Sammy’s face before letting him out as well. With Sammy in her arms, she reached out, and Dean automatically took her hand. She led him to the living room, which was littered with toys much like his room, and let go of his hand to put Sammy into a baby bouncer.

She turned to Dean and smiled. “Mommy’s got some cleaning to do, so why don’t you watch cartoons with Sammy?”

Dean nodded but furrowed his brows after the lady turned on the TV and left. He looked to Sammy, but he seemed happy in the bouncer, so Dean looked around the room. There was something familiar about it, which gave Dean a funny feeling in his stomach. Dean didn’t like the feeling—it made him kind of nauseous.

Where was Daddy? And why did that lady keep calling herself Mommy?

Dean wrapped his arms around himself. He could hear the lady (Mommy?) in the kitchen humming to herself. He scooted closer to Sammy and grabbed the baby’s hand. He didn’t know where they were, but Dean was gonna get them out of here. Somehow.

 

* * *

 

The afternoon went much like the morning. ‘Mommy’ came and got them for lunch and then let Dean go to his room to play (with Sammy of course). Later was dinner and then a bath. Dean had been uncomfortable, but it had been nice to have bath toys again, and the lady had _a lot_ of them.

It wasn’t until ‘Mommy’ was carrying Dean back to his room for bedtime that he realized why the hallway made him so uncomfortable.

There were no pictures...anywhere. In his house, there were pictures of Mommy and Daddy and him and Sammy everywhere. Here, though, the walls were plain. And it still looked familiar. It tickled the back of Dean’s mind as he tried to remember, but then he was in his room, and the lady was tucking him into bed. She read him a bedtime story and then kissed his forehead before rising.

“Night, Deanie.” She turned on a nightlight and quietly closed the door. Dean listened, hearing ‘Mommy’ go into Sammy’s room before going downstairs. He heard a door shut, and the house was quiet.

Dean sat up and bit his lip, clutching at the blanket. With the lady busy, he could try to escape with Sammy, but where would he go? He didn’t know where he was or where Daddy was. He didn’t know the name of the town Daddy had taken them to, and they couldn’t go back home. He had no way of contacting Daddy either.

Suddenly, his Mommy’s voice filled his head.

_Angels are watching over you, Dean._

Dean’s eyes lit up. If what Mommy was saying was true, maybe he could pray to the angels to help him and Sammy.

Dean shuffled onto his knees, put his hands together, and closed his eyes.

_Dear angels—_

Dean paused as a whisper of a name ran through his mind.

**_Castiel_ **

Castiel? That was a funny name. Maybe it was the name of an angel Mommy had told him about, and he just forgot. Maybe if he prayed to this angel, he’d show up. It was better to specifically pray to one angel than a bunch of angels, right?

_Dear Castiel. My name is Dean Winchester. Me and my brother are lost in some lady’s house and want to go home. Will you help us please? Amen._

Just as Dean thought ‘Amen,’ he heard what sounded like a bird flying and opened his eyes, jumping when he realized someone else was in the room. His eyes widened, and he scrambled back as the newcomer shot forward.

“Dean!” The man kneeled in front of the bed and reached out for him, causing him to flinch back. The man paused, his eyebrows furrowing with worry. “Dean, I heard your prayer. Are you all right?”

Dean stared in awe. This was an angel! It had to be! Who else would have heard him call for help?

Dean hesitantly crawled closer to the man, who was looking more and more worried while he waited for Dean to answer.

“Dean?” Dean leaned close to the man’s face, staring intently at it before poking it. This sure was a funny-looking angel. He didn’t look like Dean thought he would. He kind of just looked like a really tired man. Where were his wings and halo?

The man (Castiel?) stared down at the hand that poked him before looking back into Dean’s eyes. “Dean, do you know who I am?”

Dean tilted his head to the side. Did Dean know him? He knew the man was an angel, and he was pretty sure he had never met an angel before (Mommy would have talked about it!), but something about the man seemed familiar. Dean shrugged and shook his head.

The man frowned. “My name is Castiel. You prayed for me to help you.” The man paused and looked around. “Dean, where is your brother?”

Dean hopped down from the bed. He reached out to grab Castiel’s hand and hesitated for a moment before shaking it off and grabbing the hand. He quietly led the angel out of his room and to Sammy’s, not wanting to alert the strange woman that he was up. He let go and ran to the crib, peeking down at the baby. Sammy was asleep, sucking quietly on a pacifier. Dean looked up as the angel approached, an unreadable expression on his face.

Castiel lifted Sammy out of the crib and looked down at Dean. “I am going to take you from here. Is that acceptable?”

Dean nodded, a relieved smile on his face. He didn’t ever want to see that weird lady again.

The angel reached out to him and pressed two fingers to his forehead, and they were gone.

 

* * *

 

One second they were in Sammy’s nursery, the next Dean’s legs were giving out on cold concrete. Castiel caught him just as Sammy’s cries ripped through the air. Castiel seemed startled and stared down at the baby as if unsure of what to do. Seeing this, Dean tugged on the angel’s trench coat until he was following Dean into what looked like a living room. He would have asked Castiel for Sammy, but he still felt weak from whatever it was the angel did and didn’t want to drop his brother.

He led Castiel over to a couch and gestured for the angel to put Sammy onto it. Castiel did, and Dean leaned over the screeching baby. Sammy was probably crying because whatever Castiel did didn’t make him feel good, so Dean reached out and began to tickle him. It took a minute, but Sammy’s cries were slowly replaced with giggles. Dean beamed at the baby and wiped his brother’s tears and snot away with the sleeve of his pajama shirt. He picked up the pacifier clipped to Sammy’s footie pajamas and popped it back into the baby’s mouth. He waited for Sammy to fall asleep again and looked back up at Castiel, who had a fond look on his face.

“You are very good with your brother.” Castiel said, and Dean nodded, pride blooming in his chest.

Now that Sammy was taken care of, Dean took a moment to look around the room. This _also_ was not the motel room he had fallen asleep in before waking up in that lady’s house. He looked up questioningly at Castiel.

“This is...my home. You will be safe here.”

Dean frowned. He wanted to go back home to Daddy, not to some angel’s home. Daddy would keep them safe, so he didn’t need to stay here. Dean reached out and gripped the angel’s trench coat. He looked up and opened his mouth to tell the angel, but the words got caught in his throat like they always did after the fire. He closed his mouth in frustration as he fought back tears.

Castiel kneeled down, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked over Dean. “Are you hurt?” He reached out and touched two fingers to Dean’s temple again. Dean felt a rush of warmth and opened his mouth again—maybe the angel fixed his words!—but still nothing came out. His face scrunched up as he tried not to cry while he looked at the angel.

Castiel only became more confused. “I do not understand. You are not hurt. Why do you not speak?”

Dean sniffled and rubbed at his nose. It wasn’t like he didn’t want to speak. He just...couldn’t. Not since Mommy died. He didn’t know how to tell the angel that.

A yawn suddenly interrupted Dean’s thoughts. With everything that had happened, he had forgotten that it was bedtime when he prayed to Castiel.

That unreadable expression was back on Castiel’s face as he suddenly stood. “You should rest. You have had a long day.” Castiel reached for Sammy, but Dean beat him to it. He felt much better now, and he wanted to be the one to hold his brother. Castiel only looked surprised for a moment before nodding. “Come. I will take you to your room.”

Dean followed but was confused when they arrived at the room. It looked lived in. He stared up at Castiel questioningly.

Castiel glanced down at Dean before looking around the room. “This is...my friend’s room. You may stay here for now. Do you want your brother to stay with you?”

Dean nodded quickly and set Sammy on the bed. They were not going to be separated, not again. It was his job to watch Sammy, and he couldn’t do that if his brother was in another room. Also...he didn’t want to be alone.

Dean climbed onto the bed and carefully shuffled under the covers with Sammy beside him. He laid his head on the pillow and looked up at Castiel, who stared back down at him. It kind of looked like the angel wanted to cry, but that wouldn’t make sense. Why would an angel cry? Even if angels did, why would looking at Dean make this angel cry? Dean closed his eyes, feeling exhausted from everything that had happened today. He’d think about it in the morning. As he drifted off to sleep, he heard Castiel murmur, though he wouldn’t remember it in the morning.

“I will fix you both, Dean. I promise.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to let you guys know that I'm doing an internship this semester and I have to write a bunch of papers while doing so, so updating might get a little hectic as I try to find the time to write. Thankfully, I already had this chapter done.
> 
> Enjoy!

Dean startled awake the next morning (another nightmare about Mommy _burning_ ) and sighed in relief as he felt Sammy squirming beside him. Dean opened his eyes and sat up, smiling down at Sammy as the baby burbled. The odor from Sammy told him his brother needed his diaper changed, so Dean slid off the bed, picked Sammy up, and headed out the door. He found Castiel in what looked like a library, hunched over a large, dusty book. At the sound of Dean’s footsteps, Castiel looked up and smiled softly.

“Hello, Dean. Did you sleep well?”

Dean nodded as he approached Castiel and held up Sammy. Castiel took the baby and stared down at Dean in confusion. “Why did you hand me Sam?”

Dean pointed at Sammy and then waved a hand in front of his nose. Castiel stared at him for another moment before he seemed to get it. “Oh.” He glanced down at Sam and frowned. He gently set the baby down on the table. Castiel’s face twisted with indecision before he let out a sigh and waved his hand. Dean leaned closer and realized Sammy no longer smelled. His jaw dropped, and he whipped around to stare at the angel in awe.

Castiel shifted under Dean’s gaze. He wasn’t used to Dean looking at him with such...wonder. It made him extremely uncomfortable.

Dean’s stomach suddenly growled. Castiel was grateful for the distraction and gathered Sam into his arms. “You are hungry. Let me get you two something to eat.”

Dean followed the angel to the kitchen and climbed into a seat at the table. Castiel handed Sammy to Dean and set about getting cereal for them. However, Dean shook his head when he set the second bowl down for Sam.

Castiel furrowed his brows. “What is wrong?”

Like last night, Dean opened his mouth as if to speak before angrily shutting it when nothing came out. Instead, he pointed to the cereal and then Sammy, shaking his head.

“...Sam cannot eat this?”

Dean nodded, relieved that the angel seemed to understand him.

“What can Sam eat?”

Dean wasn’t sure how to tell Castiel what was needed, but luckily the angel came up with an idea before he could become frustrated again.

“Would a pen and paper help?” At Dean’s relieved nod, Castiel disappeared for a moment, causing Dean’s jaw to drop again, before he returned with said items. Dean was once again staring at Castiel in wonder as he took the pen and paper and gently put Sammy down behind him before shuffling onto his knees. He hadn’t had a chance to write much in preschool, but he thought he could convey what Sammy needed well enough.

Dean clumsily gripped the pen and wrote out a list of things that Sammy could eat, like ‘ **4MooLa** ’ and ‘ **MaSH FrooT** ’. Castiel looked the list over for a moment before nodding and disappearing again. He reappeared with a bundle of bananas and set them on the table in front of Dean. Dean was about to ask what he was doing when the angel suddenly brought his fist down onto the bananas, bursting some of the peels and spraying the three of them with bits of banana. Sammy squealed and gleefully waved his hands in the air. Dean stared at the mess and started giggling. It was quiet, more breathy and barely a laugh compared to how he used to sound, but it was the first real noise Dean had made in a while, and he liked it. He looked up at Castiel, a smile stretching across his face as he continued to quietly giggle.

Castiel wasn’t sure what was so funny—he had done as Dean asked, hadn’t he?—but any confusion was wiped away when Dean smiled up at him. Even if Dean was laughing at him, Castiel didn’t care. This was the first noise Dean had made since he heard the boy’s prayer, and Dean looked so _happy_.

Dean reached for one of the spoons Castiel had brought over for cereal and dug through the peels for some mashed banana. It was a grown-up spoon, but Dean thought he could just put a little food on the spoon for Sammy to eat. There wasn’t much, as a lot of the mashed bananas had ended up splattered on the three, but there were still some solid bananas left. He raised his fist over the bananas but hesitated and looked over at Castiel. At the angel’s nod, he slammed his fist down onto the bananas and burst into another fit of breathy giggles. He repeated the action until the bananas were mashed enough and began to feed Sammy again. Once Sammy seemed satisfied, Dean set down the spoon and looked up at Castiel again.

Castiel stared back, unsure of what Dean wanted. Seeing this, Dean reached out for the box of cereal and held it out to Castiel while looking at it and then his bowl. Castiel took the cereal and glanced at the bowl. “You want me to pour the cereal?”

Dean nodded and watched as Castiel did so. The angel also poured the milk, which Dean was thankful for. He didn’t think he would have been able to lift it. Dean smiled in thanks at Castiel and picked up his grown-up spoon to eat. Dean still had trouble using it, even though he had been forced to use one for the past few weeks, and made a bit of a mess, but the angel didn’t seem to mind. When he finished, he looked up at the angel, unsure of what to do next.

Castiel mirrored him. What was one supposed to do with children?

Dean broke eye contact and pulled Sammy back into his lap. He stared down at his brother as he pet the baby’s hair. While he was glad to be away from that weird lady, he didn’t really want to be here either. The angel looked just as lost as Dean sometimes. He didn’t think Castiel had ever taken care of a kid before. Daddy wasn’t that great either—always reading or drinking that nasty drink that made him smell bad and cry—but at least Daddy was familiar. Daddy had toys and TV and small books that Dean could read in a somewhat warm motel room or the car. The place they were in now was cold, freezing his bare feet, and it didn’t really look like kids were supposed to be here.

“Would you like to watch TV?” Castiel asked. Dean glanced up through his bangs and nodded.

Dean carefully slid off the chair and followed after Castiel with Sammy in his arms. The angel led him to another room that looked lived in, but this one had a TV.

Dean stared at the TV—or what he thought was a TV. It was the thinnest one he had ever seen, but it had the biggest screen he had ever seen. It also didn’t have any dials or buttons like TVs usually did. Dean turned to stare at the angel with his jaw dropped before setting Sammy on the bed and running over to inspect the TV. There seemed to be a few buttons across the side, so Dean pressed the one that said ‘Power’. He backed up to look at the screen and gaped. The picture was so clear! He turned and scrambled onto the bed, never taking his eyes off the screen. He held up Sammy and pointed at the TV excitedly, grinning.

_Look, Sammy! Look at the TV!_

He felt the bed dip beside him and beamed up at Castiel. The angel’s lips twitched into a smile before he looked back up to find something for Dean to watch. Dean’s eyes widened when something called ‘Netflix’ came up and showed more TV shows and movies than Dean had ever seen! Dean leaned forward, awestruck.

Angels had such cool things!

Finding something to watch took a while (Castiel kept trying to play _adult_ stuff) until a cartoon Dean had never seen before was chosen. Dean’s eyes were glued to the screen, mesmerized by how different it looked compared to the cartoons he usually watched. When the first episode ended, he excitedly turned to the angel and beamed. He wanted to thank the angel and ask where he had gotten the TV from, but he knew that if his words got caught in his throat again he would probably cry, and he didn’t want to ruin his good mood. Instead, he wrapped his arms around as much of the angel’s middle as he could. He felt Castiel stiffen for a moment before relaxing and resting his hand on Dean’s head. Dean smiled up at the angel again and turned back to the TV, ready to start the next episode.

 

* * *

 

They stopped after a few more episodes for lunch. Castiel left again to get more food for Sam, and they had a repeat of the morning, much to Dean’s delight. Castiel made a sandwich for Dean, and Dean ate the whole thing, even though he didn’t like the crusts. Mommy used to cut the crusts off for him, but ever since she went away, Daddy made sure he ate the whole thing because he said that it was a waste of food if he didn’t.

Dean was also given a big boy cup filled with water. While Dean was thrilled that the angel thought he was big enough for one, his happiness was quickly dashed when he spilled a bunch of water on himself (the cup was heavy!). He looked up at Castiel with a trembling lip.

Castiel panicked. “It is all right, Dean.” He patted the boy’s head awkwardly. He looked between Dean and Sam, who was starting to whine as he needed another change. His shoulders slumped. “I suppose I should take you shopping. I am not equipped with what you need.” He wished adult Sam or Dean were here—they would know what to do.

Castiel took them in his car. Dean frowned from the backseat as he held Sammy. Dean wasn’t supposed to sit in the car without his booster seat, and Sammy _definitely_ wasn’t supposed to be in it without his car seat. He also didn’t have any shoes or socks. He wasn’t supposed to go to stores without shoes or socks. Even Sammy didn’t go to the store without socks.

When they arrived—at a Walmart, Dean noted—Castiel picked both Sammy and him up. When he looked up at the angel curiously, Castiel answered. “You are barefoot, Dean. There is broken glass, and the ground will be rough on your feet. I do not want you to get hurt.”

Dean nodded and wrapped his arms around the angel’s neck, resting his head on Castiel’s shoulder. When they got inside, Castiel set Dean down and grabbed a cart. As he put Sam in the seat, he felt Dean grip his coat.

He made his way to the clothing section first and quickly got lost in a sea of clothes. Dean just stared up at the angel, waiting for him to do something. Castiel looked around. Where was he supposed to start?

“Can I help you, sir?”

Castiel turned around and sighed in relief at the sight of a female worker. He nodded. “Yes, I need help finding clothes for these two.” He gestured to the two boys.

The woman glanced down and narrowed her eyes in suspicion at the sight of the little boy in damp pajamas and no shoes. Dean, not liking the stare, hid behind the angel’s legs.

Luckily, Castiel had gotten better at reading expressions, and he knew this woman did not like what she saw. He knew he needed to ease her lest she call the police and complicate everything.

He still wasn’t a great liar, so he decided to just go with the truth. “Their mother perished in a fire recently along with the house.” He didn’t even have a chance to say anything else before the employee interrupted him.

“Oh, you poor thing! And you need to replace the things you lost, right?” The woman began to sort through the children’s clothes. “I’m guessing Mom was the one who did all the shopping?” Castiel nodded as she held up a few shirts. “Let me just check to see what size he is. Can you come here, sweetie?” She smiled at Dean.

Dean looked up at Castiel, who nodded reassuringly. Dean hesitantly moved from behind the angel’s legs and approached the lady, who beamed at him. Dean hunched in on himself.

“That’s a good boy! Can you tell me your name, sweetie?” Dean shook his head, so the woman looked up at Castiel.

“His name is Dean. He...hasn’t spoken.”

Her eyes crinkled with sympathy. She looked back at Dean. “Well, Dean, my name is Natalie. Do you mind if I just hold these up to you to see if they fit?” Dean hesitated for a moment before nodding, causing the woman to smile again. “Thank you, Dean! This will be really helpful!”

Dean stood still as she held up shirts to his chest. When that was done, the woman grabbed some pants and held those up to him as well. Once she got the right sizes, Natalie flitted around the children’s section to grab some clothes and offered them to Castiel. Castiel took them gratefully. There were about seven shirts and pairs of pants, and she had thrown in some socks and underwear.

“I figured a week’s worth of clothes is a good place to start. Let me grab some clothes for the other little guy and then we can see about getting them some shoes.”

When Natalie came back, she had the same amount of outfits for Sammy, plus pajamas for him and Dean. Next, she took them to the shoe section, where she measured Dean and Sammy’s feet and got out a few pairs of shoes. She opened the bag of socks and slid a pair onto Dean’s feet. Next, she took the lid off of one the boxes and held it out to Dean.

“Now, Dean, these shoes are really special. Do you wanna know why?” When Dean nodded, she leaned in closer and whispered conspiratorially. “They light up when you walk. Wanna see?”

Dean nodded rapidly, so Natalie took out the shoes and slid them onto his feet. When they were strapped on, she leaned back and grinned. “Alright! Try it out, kiddo!”

Dean eagerly began stomping his feet. He gasped in delight as they lit up and grinned up at Castiel, who smiled back. While Dean continued to jump around, Natalie slid a pair of shoes onto Sammy’s feet. Satisfied, she held out the two boxes to Castiel.

“They can keep the shoes on, just let them know and they’ll ring up the boxes.”

“Thank you.” Castiel took the boxes and added them to the cart.

Natalie then took them to the baby supplies and piled his cart with baby bottles, diapers, sippy cups, and baby food. She looked disapprovingly at Castiel when Dean pointed to the booster seat and car seat until he mentioned that the mother’s car had been in the garage and had burned with the house. She grabbed a high chair and a crib, though Castiel didn’t think he’d be using it. Dean didn’t seem to want to sleep without Sam, and Castiel wouldn’t be the one to make him. They also made a trip to the toy aisle, where Dean ran around trying to figure out what he wanted. He settled on crayons and some Hot Wheels and picked out a few things for Sammy. Once that was done, Natalie turned and smiled at Castiel.

“That should be everything you need for now. If you need anything else, feel free to come back and ask for me. I’ll be happy to help!”

Castiel tipped his head at her. “Thank you again, Natalie. I do not know what I would have done without you.”

“You’re welcome, sir.” Natalie bent down and smiled at Dean, ruffling his hair. “Goodbye, Dean! I hope to see you again soon!”

Dean nodded. He opened his mouth, wanting to say thank you. He tried so hard, wanting to please the nice lady, but all that came out was a wheeze. Tears burned in Dean’s eyes, and he wiped at them quickly, not wanting to cry in front of Natalie.

“Oh, sweetie.” She rested her hands on his shoulders. She thought about how she could cheer him up when an idea popped into her head. “Hey, Dean. Have you ever heard of sign language?” Dean shook his head, so she continued. “Well, it’s a language used by people who can’t speak like you. They use their hands to talk instead of their voices. I don’t know a lot, but I do know how to say thank you. Would you like to see?”

Dean stared at her in awe. She could teach him how to say stuff without using his words? Dean nodded eagerly. He was desperate to be able to say anything. Just knowing how to say thank you would mean the world to him.

Natalie beamed. “Alright. Bring your hand to your chin like this—” She showed Dean, who copied her. “—and then bring it down like this.” Dean did so. “And that’s it! That’s how you say thank you in sign language.”

Dean’s eyes lit up, and he rapidly did as she had shown him. Natalie laughed and stood with a “There you go!”. She looked to Castiel, who looked at her with such relief it was heartbreaking.

“Thank you.” He said.

She nodded. “No problem. I know I’d be real upset if no one could understand me. I can’t even imagine what it’s like for a child.”

Castiel left after that with Dean waving eagerly at Natalie. It took him a while to figure out how to install the seats in his car, and he gave up once a sympathetic mother approached and offered to help. With the seats set up, he buckled Sam and Dean in and drove back home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to talk to me at browniesarethebest.tumblr.com


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the last pre-written chapter I had. I'm working on chapter 4, but again, I'm working full-time during the day and then writing papers at night, so I don't have as much time as I would like to write this. Please be patient with me, and thank you for all the love!

Castiel didn’t want to do this, but he had no choice. He couldn’t research and watch Sam and Dean at the same time.

He had gone back to the house he had found them in and interrogated the witch while Sam and Dean slept. It turns out she had wanted a child, so she had been stealing adults and turning back to a time they were traumatized and needed a caring figure. However, they were usually old enough to try to argue or fight back. When they did, she would kill them. And then Sam and Dean had shown up, and they were the perfect age according to the witch. Castiel tried to get her to give him a cure, but she had tried to kill him instead, and Castiel ended up having to kill her before one of her waves of curses could hit him. With the witch as a dead end, there was really only one person he could contact for help.

It was morning by the time he returned home, so he dressed Sam and Dean and headed out again. Once he found a safe location far enough from the bunker, he called Crowley.

“Feathers, what’s the problem this time?” Crowley sounded annoyed.

“Sam and Dean ran into a problem, and I need help.”

He could practically hear Crowley sitting up as curiosity replaced his annoyance. “Why aren’t they calling me then? And what exactly do you need me for?”

“I need you to research a spell for me. They ran into a witch, and I cannot watch them and try to find how to counteract it at the same time.”

“Watch them?” Crowley asked, his interest piqued. He suddenly appeared beside Castiel, causing Sam to squeal and Dean to jump and hide behind the angel’s legs.

“Bloody Hell.” Crowley stated, staring with his eyebrows raised. “You boys really got yourselves into a mess this time.”

“Crowley.” Castiel growled as he felt Dean’s grip on his pants tighten. “Will you help me? The witch who did this is dead—”

“So you came to me.” Crowley finished, his eyes lighting up as he eyed the baby in Castiel’s arms. Said baby was slobbering on Castiel’s tie as he stared back with curiosity.

“Crowley.” Castiel growled again, turning the baby away from the demon’s view.

“Don’t get your feathers twisted in a knot, princess. I’ll help.” Crowley took his phone out and snapped a photo of the children, grinning wickedly. “This will be a great chance for blackmail material.”

Castiel held the children tighter to him. “You are not going to be around them. I will do what research I can in the bunker, and you will use your own resources or contact Rowena to find a cure.”

Crowley quirked an eyebrow. “You are going to watch them all by yourself? Are you sure you won’t accidentally kill them?”

Castiel huffed. “I have been doing just fine so far.”

Crowley glanced down at Dean. “His shoes are on the wrong feet.”

Castiel looked down and saw Dean’s face pinch as the boy shuffled his feet. He dropped to his knees, handing Sam to Dean and reaching down to unstrap Dean’s shoes. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Dean shrugged, lifting his foot obediently when the angel tugged at it. He squinted at the new person. Was he an angel too? He could suddenly appear like one, but Dean got a bad vibe off of him. He didn’t like the way the man was staring at him and Sammy.

Once Castiel was finished, he took Sam back and stood back up, resting a hand on Dean’s head. He glared at Crowley. “They will be fine with me. Just find a cure.”

Crowley left not long after that, so Castiel took them back to the bunker. As he zapped a new diaper onto Sam and chased Dean away from a hidden gun under the table, he wondered if maybe Crowley had been right. If it hadn’t been for his Grace, he was sure he would have damaged them by now. Father knew he wouldn’t have been able to properly take care of Sam, knowing absolutely nothing about infant care. Dean had helped with that too, which eased some of Castiel’s burden, but the angel wished that his friends were at their rightful age. He missed them.

 

* * *

 

Castiel was glad that Dean had picked out the crayons at the store. It gave the boy an activity that distracted him for hours, giving Castiel a chance to do some research. He only had one free hand, as Sam was quietly napping in the other, but Castiel didn’t mind. Every once in a while, Dean would approach the angel with a new drawing. Castiel usually answered him with “Thank you” or “That’s very good.”

He became confused when Dean approached him with a picture of a stick figure and pointed at it. It wasn’t the first stick figure Dean had drawn, but they had been ones he recognized, such as himself (the tan trench coat gave it away) or Sam or Dean. He did not know who this was, though.

“Who is that, Dean?” Castiel asked. Dean answered by writing ‘ **DaDDY** ’ underneath it.

Castiel tensed. “You are wondering where your father is?” At Dean’s nod, Castiel sighed. “He is...safe.” _In heaven_ , Castiel thought. “He cannot be here at the moment, though. He is hunting for the thing that killed your mother, and taking you and Sam along would put you in danger. That is why you are here instead of with him.”

Dean’s face fell. He turned and went back over to the table where he had been drawing, hunching his shoulders. He kept his back to the angel, scribbling half-heartedly at a new piece of paper.

Castiel glanced between Dean and the book he was currently reading before giving up with a sigh and closing the book. He stood and walked over to Dean’s table, carefully sitting down in the chair opposite Dean. He checked to make sure Sam was still asleep before trying to get Dean’s attention. “Dean.”

Dean’s shoulders hunched closer, and he ducked his head down to stare intently at his drawing. Castiel realized it was a house and became alarmed a moment later when Dean picked up an orange crayon and began to violently jerk it across the paper.

“Dean!” Castiel reached out and stilled the boy’s hand. He felt Dean try to yank his arm out of Castiel’s grasp, pulling and pushing as if to keep drawing on the paper. Though Dean’s head was still bowed, he heard the boy’s breath hitch. Gaspy whines escaped the boy as he pulled at his arm, arching his back with the effort.

Castiel was scared Dean was going to hurt himself, so he gently eased his grip. Dean, not realizing this, yanked back once more and ended up tumbling out of the chair, smacking into the floor. Castiel was by him in a heartbeat. To add insult to injury, the crash had woken Sam up, who was now shrieking in fear. Castiel ignored him for a moment to check on Dean.

“Are you hurt?” Castiel’s fingers ghosted over Dean, looking for any bumps or bruises. Dean sniffled, tears streaming down his cheeks, as he held up his arm. It was red in areas where Dean had tried to free himself—Castiel noted some of these would later turn into bruises.

“Are you hurt anywhere else? Did you hit your head?” Dean shook his head, so Castiel reached forward, his heart falling when Dean flinched away. “I promise you that I will not hurt you. I just want to heal your injuries. May I please do that?” Dean hesitated, but his arm was beginning to throb, so he nodded and leaned forward. Castiel pressed two fingers to Dean’s temple, and Dean felt that warmth again from when Castiel had tried to fix his words. When the warmth went away, Dean’s arm didn’t hurt anymore. He offered the angel a shaky smile, but it quickly fell away as Sammy’s cries grew louder.

With Dean better, Castiel turned his attention to the baby. “I apologize, Sam. I did not mean to wake you.” He stood and began to rock Sam, trying to recall what he had done when he babysat his coworker’s infant back when he was human. He tried singing a lullaby, which seemed to do the trick. Sam’s cries slowly died down until there was nothing left but teary eyes and an occasional hiccup.

“Thank you, Sam. You can go back to sleep now.” Castiel looked over at Dean. “Would you like to rest as well?”

Much to Castiel’s confusion, Dean nodded quickly and ran off to his room—but not before snatching a crayon and a piece of paper. Castiel, surprised and slightly worried by Dean’s behavior, quickly raced after the boy. The angel thought to call out before he remembered Sam. He did not want to wake the baby up and have to repeat the last few minutes. When he arrived at Dean’s room, he saw said boy sitting under the covers, eyes trained on the doorway. Castiel paused for a moment before entering the room and laying Sam beside Dean. He laid a hand on Dean’s forehead. “Rest well, Dean.”

He turned to leave when he felt Dean grip his coat. He looked down at the boy, who was biting his lip with indecision as he stared up at the angel.

“Yes, Dean?”

Dean gnawed at his lip before seeming to come to a decision. He let go of the angel’s coat and grabbed the crayon he had brought. He clumsily wrote ‘ **SinG PLeeZ?** ’. He gazed up at Castiel hopefully.

Castiel rested his hand on the top of Dean’s head and sat on the edge of the bed. “Of course. If that is what you want.”

Dean settled back into bed, gathering Sammy close. He closed his eyes as the angel began to sing. It wasn’t his Mommy’s voice, and it wasn’t ‘Hey, Jude’, but someone was singing Dean to sleep—something even his Daddy wouldn’t do, not that he understood that’s what Dean’s been wanting—and it was so nice. Dean sighed happily and drifted to sleep.

Castiel watched the two brothers sleep. It pained him to see them so innocent and vulnerable. Dean was openly emotional and traumatized, and Sam couldn’t even perform the most basic functions to care for himself. It left Castiel feeling incredibly lonely and scared. What if something happened to them? What if they got hurt because of him? Dean at least had experience raising children, and Sam knew enough about humans that he probably would have done a better job than Castiel.

But his friends couldn’t help, so it was up to him to care for them and find a way to return them to normal. They would do the same for him, Castiel knew.

He saw Dean shift in his sleep and drape an arm around Sam, pulling the baby closer to him. Sam turned towards Dean and unconsciously grabbed the boy’s pajama shirt. Castiel tilted his head at the sight, a smile tugging at his lips. He stood and made his way out of the room.

Castiel needed to find the spell that did this to them, but he also needed to research how to care for children. If he was going to do at least a half-decent job, he needed to know everything there was to know about children—infant care, how to help traumatized children, fun activities, what to feed them, and so much more.

Castiel doubted the Men of Letters had books on childcare, so he decided to head to the store. He hesitated for just a moment, looking towards the direction of Dean’s room. He didn’t like leaving Sam and Dean alone, but they were asleep. They probably wouldn’t even notice he was gone.

With that thought in mind, Castiel left the bunker, mostly convinced that Sam and Dean would be fine.

 

* * *

 

Dean shot up in bed, his chest heaving from the remnants of silent screams. Sweat soaked his body, making him feel cold and clammy. Tears streamed down his cheeks, and Dean angrily rubbed at them.

A quiet whimper had Dean looking beside him. Sammy was awake, gazing up at Dean with watery eyes and a trembling lip. Dean shakily pulled Sammy into his lap and held his brother close to him. Sammy gurgled and stared up at Dean happily, tears forgotten now that he had Dean’s attention.

Now that Sammy wasn’t upset anymore, Dean slid off the bed and trotted out of the room with the baby in his arms. He was still upset from his nightmare and wanted Castiel. The angel could be strange sometimes, but he was comforting—more than Daddy had been since Mommy went to Heaven.

Dean would have to ask Castiel if he could visit her. He’d be able to let Dean see Mommy again, right? He was an angel after all.

Dean walked into the library, which was where the angel usually was, pouring over some dusty, boring book, but Dean stopped when he realized the angel wasn’t there. Confused, Dean went to the kitchen, but the angel wasn’t there either.

Dean clutched Sammy closer as he carefully raced around the bunker, becoming more distressed when none of the rooms yielded Castiel. He tried locked doors, tugging frantically while Sammy lay on the floor. Keening whines shook Dean as they echoed in his throat. Sammy began to cry, causing Dean to spiral further.

The angel had left them.

The angel had left them!

He stumbled back into the library with Sammy in his arms. He collapsed by a table and crawled under, dragging Sammy with him. He rocked, hugging his brother closer. Sammy wailed, but Dean couldn’t do anything as his own tears ran down his face. He hiccuped and felt something build in his chest.

Dean pressed his lips together as another whine burst forth. He was alone—all alone—except for Sammy. Mommy was gone. Daddy was gone. And now the angel was gone. What was he going to do? How was he going to take care of Sammy?

The pressure in his chest built, and a sound tore from Dean’s lips.

“Kkkk—” Dean shuddered, his chest heaving. “Nnn!”

Dean pounded his fist against his head. “Kk—Ca—”

_GET THE WORDS OUT_

“Caaaa!” Dean’s throat burned, scratchy and hoarse from disuse. Dean keened, causing Sammy to shriek louder. Both faces were dark red with the force of their sobs, and Dean thought he might vomit. He gulped in a breath and raspily wailed.

“CAS!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to talk to me at browniesarethebest.tumblr.com


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! A combination of work and writer's block is never good, but I've been sick and managed to get over the last hurdle to finish the chapter. I hope you like it!

Castiel had just finished purchasing the books when a shout resounded in his head.

**_CAS_ **

His head whipped around, startling the cashier. He ignored her worried “Sir?” and rushed out of the store, shoving people out of the way. He ran behind the building and flew away to the bunker. He landed and immediately panicked at the sound of screaming.

“Dean!” Castiel ran towards the source of all the noise and crouched down, looking under the table. He found Dean shivering with Sam held tightly in his arms. The moment Dean saw him, he lunged toward the angel. Castiel caught both of them and pulled them close. His eyes darted around the room, searching for whatever caused their distress. Seeing nothing, Castiel looked back down at Dean, who was trembling as he sobbed into the angel’s shirt.

“C-Cas…” Dean blubbered, causing the angel’s eyes to widen.

“Dean?” Said boy looked at Castiel, heaving, and then threw up, splattering all three of them. This sent Sam and Dean into a new wave of sobs, so Castiel picked them up and carried them to one of the unused bathrooms. While the Men of Letters had a shower room, they had also installed a few private bathrooms that luckily contained a bathtub.

Castiel removed his coat and turned the water on. While he waited for the water to warm, he gently stripped Sam and Dean and set their clothes on top of his soiled trench coat. He also summoned the shampoo and soap from Dean’s room. Once the water seemed warm enough. He filled the tub a few inches and sat Dean in it before easing Sam in.

Dean, having done this with his Daddy a few times (the man was too impatient to give them separate baths), let Sammy lean back against his chest to support the baby. Dean loved his brother, but he missed sitting in a full bathtub overflowing with bubbles. He missed his Mommy spiking his hair up and playing along when he splashed her. Dean was always cold now since the water didn’t even really cover his legs, and Daddy didn’t like being splashed.

He was still crying softly when Castiel poured water over his head. Sammy had calmed down somewhat when he had been placed in the water, and he cooed as he slapped at the water. Dean wished he could be Sammy in that moment—not have to think or know about sad things. He wanted to be able to bounce back and forget whatever had upset him.

“Hush, Dean. Everything is fine.” Castiel gently rubbed shampoo into Dean’s hair as he spoke. The deep rumble of his voice was soothing to Dean. “I apologize for leaving and worrying you. I had an errand to run and did not expect you to wake before I returned.”

Dean looked up at Castiel, baffled. Dean had cried and upset Sammy and had vomited on all three of them. Castiel’s really nice coat was probably ruined because of him, as well as the pajamas the angel had been kind enough to buy them. But the angel was apologizing to _him_?

It made Dean want to cry again, but he was able to hold the tears back this time.

Soon, Castiel was lifting Sammy and him out and wrapping them in large towels. Dean let the angel dry him off and was awed as Castiel made his other pajamas (the ones he had worn when he had woken up in that lady’s house) appear out of thin air. He had seen Castiel do something like this before, of course, but he never got tired of it. It was magic! Who could get tired of magic?

Castiel helped Dean get dressed and then zipped Sam up in his footie pajamas. As he moved to leave, he felt Dean tug on his pants. He looked down into wide, green eyes and watched as Dean brought his hand to his chin and then back out.

“You are welcome, Dean.” He watched Dean glance guiltily over at the pile of soiled clothes. He knelt down and tilted Dean’s chin until the boy was looking at him again. “You do not need to worry about that. I am not upset with you, and it can easily be cleaned.”

Dean nodded and looked down. He still felt guilty, but the angel was being so nice. He fisted his hand in Castiel’s pants and followed him back to his room. Dean climbed into bed and settled in, staring up at the angel as he set Sammy down beside the boy.

“Would you like for me to sing to you again?” Castiel asked. Dean nodded eagerly and drifted off as Castiel began to sing some lullaby that he had never heard of.

 

* * *

 

Now that the chaos was over and the two were asleep, Castiel had time to think about tonight’s events.

Dean had _spoken_.

He had only said one word—it being the shortened version of his name (which sent a strange sense of satisfaction through the angel)—but it was like music to Castiel’s ears. It was the first word the angel had heard from Dean since he and Sam had left to hunt the witch.

He didn’t understand why Dean wouldn’t talk before. It wasn’t caused by an injury—Castiel’s grace had checked for that. Dean just couldn’t seem to talk. Being unable to do anything had frustrated the angel, but now, maybe, the angel could get Dean to open up and speak again.

Castiel read the parenting books he had bought and planned how he could ease Dean into talking more. He was still reading when Dean walked into the room with Sam a few hours later.

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel closed the book and stood. “Did you sleep well?”

Dean nodded, staying silent. Castiel frowned and clasped his hands in front of him. “Do you think you could speak for me, Dean? I heard you say my name last night. Could you say it again?”

Dean hesitated, shifting nervously, before nodding. “C—” He coughed lightly. “Casi—Casit...Cas?” Dean anxiously looked up at Castiel through his bangs, his voice rasping. Would the angel be mad he couldn’t say his full name?

Cas smiled, feeling an unidentifiable flutter inside his chest at the sound of his nickname. “Cas is fine, Dean. I am happy that you are speaking now.”

Dean nodded again, his lips twitching up as he smiled shyly. He didn’t quite trust his words yet, and he didn’t want to disappoint Cas and himself if he couldn’t say ‘thank you’.

Sam started fussing, so Cas decided to take the small win for now and try to get more out of Dean later.

After another messy breakfast—Cas did not understand how children could get food in such obscure places—he sat Dean with crayons and paper again and set Sam in the crook of his arm as he pored over the pages of the latest book he found.

It was only 30 minutes later when Dean approached him with a piece of paper that had ‘ **bOrD** ’ written on it. Cas sighed and closed his book. He had hoped the crayons would distract the boy for a while, but Dean had always been one to prove Cas wrong. To be fair, they had been cooped up in the bunker with little to do. Cas had read that a variety of activities were good for the child’s development. He just wasn’t sure what to do besides watch TV and draw.

“What would you like to do, Dean?”

Dean hesitated for a moment before writing ‘ **parK?** ’.

Cas was hesitant to leave the safety of the bunker. The Winchesters had many enemies, and they were so _vulnerable_ right now. He had never been one to deny Dean, though. “That is fine. I believe there is a park not far from here.”

They took the car—Cas not wanting a repeat of the first night he brought them home. Cas settled on a bench with Sam and a book but made sure to keep an eye on Dean, who eagerly ran over to the jungle gym. Cas had only been reading for a few minutes when he was interrupted by a voice.

“What a wee babe.” Cas stiffened as a familiar redhead sat down next to him. “Hard to believe this small thing grows up to be such a giant.”

“Rowena.” Cas growled. “What are you doing here?”

Rowena smirked. “Fergus let me know that you had a _wee_ bit of a problem and needed some help.” She leaned forward and tapped Sam’s nose, receiving a giggle from the baby. “Magic. Such a fickle thing, isn’t it?”

“Can you fix them?” Cas asked.

“I can. It’s a complicated spell, though. Regression spells are either done as a temporary distraction or for a permanent restart.” Rowena rested her fingers on Sam’s chest. “The witch they ran into used the permanent variety. Hm…” Rowena frowned.

Cas instantly became worried. “What is it?”

“This was a custom spell.” Rowena moved her hand and pressed two fingers to Sam’s temple. The baby reached up to try to play with her hand, so Rowena gave him her free one. She smirked at the confused expression Cas gave her. “What? I raised a child once. I remember what to do.” She turned her focus back on Sam. “Creating a counter spell will take some time, but it’s not impossible.”

Cas mentally sighed in relief. “When will you have it ready?”

“I’ll need time to gather ingredients—figure out the right incantation. It shouldn’t take more than a few days, maybe a week.”

A week. Cas could wait a week.

“Cas?” Rowena and Cas looked down to see Dean staring up at Rowena curiously but cautiously, edging closer to Cas without taking his eyes off the new woman. She reminded Dean of the strange lady that had taken him and his brother.

Cas settled a hand on Dean’s head to ease the boy. “Dean, this is Rowena. She is...helping me with a problem.”

Dean nodded but stayed behind Cas’s leg, keeping a tight grip on the angel’s trench coat. He still didn’t trust the lady. He got a bad vibe from her, just like that funny-sounding man who could appear and disappear like Cas.

“Such a little thing, aren’t you?” Rowena leaned towards the boy and smirked.

Cas growled. “Rowena.”

She leaned back and held her hands up in mock surrender. “I’m not going to hurt the lad.”

“You should start getting the spell together.” Cas said, wanting the witch to leave. “The faster it’s done, the faster they go back to normal.”

“As normal as Winchesters can be.” Rowena stood and brushed off her dress. “Personally, I like them this way. Less yelling and threats.” She leaned down and winked at Dean, who tightened his grip on Cas’s coat. “Isn’t that right, Dean?”

“Rowena.”

Said woman rolled her eyes. “Is that all you can say?” She raised her hands when Cas glared at her. “My, it is easy to set you off. I’ll be going now. Try not to get them killed, will you? As much as they annoy me, the Winchesters _have_ done some good for the world.” Rowena sauntered off before Cas could say anything back, leaving the angel frustrated.

“Cas?” Cas felt a tug at his sleeve and looked down into Dean’s curious eyes.

“Are you done playing, Dean?”

Dean’s face fell. Cas probably wanted to leave now. He shouldn’t be so sad—Cas had taken him to the park! Daddy used to take him to the park, but ever since Mommy went away, Daddy has been busy and could only take him to the library. Dean liked looking at the picture books, but they were always there for _hours_ , and it got boring.

So he shouldn’t be sad. But…

Cas noticed Dean’s quiet distress and spoke. “If you are not done playing, we do not have to go. I am just fine staying here and reading while you burn off your energy.”

Dean’s head snapped up. Cas...didn’t mind staying? It was so strange. The angel was always asking what Dean wanted to do, and when Dean told him, they would do it! It was...It was really nice.

Dean nodded shyly and then bit his lip as he glanced at the swings. Cas did say he was gonna sit and read, but Cas had been reading a lot lately. He probably needed a break, right?

Cas was about to ask if Dean actually _did_ want to go home when the boy took his free hand and gently pulled on it. Cas furrowed his brows. “You would like me to come with you?”

At Dean’s nod, Cas stood and followed the boy as he led the angel toward the swings. Dean gestured for Cas to put Sam in a strangely shaped swing that allowed the baby to enjoy the activity without fear of him falling out. Once Sam was settled, Dean sat in the swing next to the baby and waited, but Cas just stood there, staring at Dean expectantly.

Dean huffed out a breath—angels were so _weird_ —and stood from the swing. He grabbed Cas’s hand and dragged the angel behind the swings. Then, making sure that Cas was watching him, Dean gently pushed Sammy’s swing. The baby squealed at the sudden movement and burst into a fit of giggles as he swung back and forth. Cas watched the baby curiously as Dean went back to his swing.

Once Dean was sat, Cas looked at the boy. “You would like me to push you?” At Dean’s enthusiastic nod, Cas stepped forward and pushed at Dean’s back, causing the boy to surge forward. Dean let a grin form on his face as he flew higher and pumped his legs to keep himself swinging. Cas stood between the two boys, pushing them forward when needed to keep them moving.

It soon grew dark, and a snow began to gently fall. Cas ceased pushing them and let the swings come to a stop. Dean hopped off his swing and waited for Cas to grab Sammy before wrapping his arms around the angel’s legs. He beamed up at Cas, his face a light pink from the cold. Dean rapidly signed his thanks.

Cas couldn’t help but smile. “You are welcome, Dean. Are you ready to go home now?”

Nodding quickly, Dean took Cas’s hand and let the angel lead him back to the car, his smile never leaving his face.

His smile stayed throughout dinner, and it was still there after bath time and when he was tucked in bed. It grew even bigger when Cas began to sing without being asked. As he drifted off to sleep, Sammy snug in his arms, Dean had only one thought going through his mind.

Best. Day. Ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to talk to me at browniesarethebest.tumblr.com


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! My internship and the papers I had to it for it took a lot of my time. I'm done with college though and am currently looking for a job, so hopefully I should have some time to write this summer.
> 
> Thanks for your patience! I hope you enjoy the chapter!

As Dean spent more time with Cas, he began to feel guilty.

Sure, Cas still seemed awkward at times, and he sometimes looked sad when he looked at Sammy and Dean, but Dean _liked_ staying with the angel.

Which is where the guilt came in.

After having the best day ever yesterday, Dean realized he hadn’t thought about his Daddy at _all_ while at the park. Dean loved his Daddy, but sometimes...Dean thought he might like Cas better.

Cas didn’t drink that nasty drink that made Daddy act funny. Cas didn’t cry and get angry and yell at things. He didn’t drag Sammy and him from dirty motel to dirty motel. He didn’t give Dean orders or expect anything from Dean.

Cas seemed happy when Dean was happy.

Cas also took care of Sammy and didn’t expect Dean to do it all the time. Dean _loved_ Sammy and would do anything for him, but it was really nice not having to change his diapers. Cas didn’t leave them alone for hours at a time. Cas let Dean choose what to do or play.

The list could go on forever.

Maybe Daddy could come live with them too. Then, Dean wouldn’t have to feel so guilty about wanting to stay with Cas.

Daddy sure was taking a while coming back…

The thought made Dean frown and lower his hands from his face (he had been playing peekaboo with Sammy). Why hadn’t Daddy come home yet? Cas said that he was hunting the monster that sent Mommy to Heaven, but how long was that going to take? Didn’t he miss Dean and Sammy?

...Did Daddy not love him anymore?

Tears sprung to Dean’s eyes at the thought. Sensing that Dean was upset, Sammy became distressed and began to cry. This was the catalyst for Dean, who too began to quietly sob.

Cas, who had been sitting nearby reading one of the parenting books he had bought, startled and stood, quickly making his way over to the two boys. He kneeled in front of Dean and looked over the boy worriedly. “Dean? What is wrong? Are you hurt?”

Dean looked at Cas and opened his mouth to say Cas’s name but let out a wail instead. Confused and panicking, Cas checked Dean over for injuries but could not find any. “Dean, please tell me what is wrong. I cannot help you unless I know what is wrong.”

“Cas…” Dean hiccupped. He stared desperately at Cas with tear-stained cheeks and flung himself into the angel’s arms. He tried to articulate his thoughts—tried to get Cas to understand that he missed his Daddy and wanted to know when (if?) he was coming back, but it was still so _hard_. Why couldn’t he get his words out?!

Cas tried to soothe Dean, sitting the boy in his lap and rubbing his back awkwardly. He did not understand what happened. One minute Dean seemed happy, playing quietly with his toy cars on the floor while Cas ‘ooh’ed and ‘aah’ed as Dean showed them off to him. The next minute he was blubbering and setting Sam off.

Even as a child, Dean was unpredictable.

“Can you tell me what is wrong?” Cas asked, tilting Dean’s head up so the boy could look him in the eyes. Cas frowned as Dean shook his head. “Can you write it down for me?” Dean nodded.

Cas gently set Dean aside and grabbed a notepad and crayon. He handed the items to Dean and watched patiently as Dean clenched the crayon in his fist and shakily wrote.

‘ **DaDDY noT LoV Me?** ’

Cas frowned. “Dean, why would you think that?”

Dean bit his lip, fighting back tears as he wrote. ‘ **Gon** ’

Cas internally sighed. He should have known that Dean would start wondering where his father was. Dean was not yet at the point when John Winchester left him and Sam for days at a time.

Cas pulled the boy back onto his lap. “Your father has not abandoned you, Dean. He is still looking for the demon that killed your mother—” Dean flinched. “—and it is taking longer than he expected it to. He will come for you and Sam as soon as he can. Do you understand, Dean?”

Dean nodded, but Cas could see that Dean wasn’t very happy with the answer.

Now that Dean was temporarily dealt with, Cas turned to Sam, whose face was dark red from the effort of his screams. Dean moved off Cas’s lap so that the angel could set Sam down on it. This only caused the baby to screech louder, and Cas resisted the urge to cover his ears. Is this what humans heard when he tried to speak to them in his true voice? No wonder their ears bled.

Dean noticed that Cas looked lost and leaned over Sammy, resting his hands on Cas’s calves for balance. Sammy paused his screaming for a moment, noticing the new face, before resuming.

Dean patted Sammy’s cheek gently to get the baby’s attention back. Once he had it, he stuck his tongue out and crossed his eyes. He held that expression for a few seconds before ballooning his cheeks out. Every few seconds he made a new face, making sure to keep Sammy’s eyes on him. Slowly, the baby began to calm down, watery giggles replacing his sobs.

Cas watched with a smile, his shoulders sagging in relief. These were his friends, but trying to get them to calm down as children was exhausting, even for an angel.

“You are very good with your brother, Dean.” Dean nodded seriously. Of course he was good with Sammy. That was his job.

Cas rested a hand on Dean’s shoulder. “I know you are still upset about your father, but I promise you that he will come back.” It was a lie, of course, but Cas had gotten pretty decent at lying.

Dean jerked his head once, showing Cas that he understood. He took Sammy from Cas’s lap and looked up at the angel hopefully.

Cas quirked an eyebrow. “Yes, Dean?”

Dean huffed, frustrated, and set Sammy back in Cas’s lap. He reached for his crayon and paper and wrote ‘ **MooVy?** ’

It took Cas a moment to figure out what Dean meant before his lips twitched upwards. “Of course, Dean. What would you like to watch?”

Dean shrugged. Anything on the cool angel TV was fine with Dean.

 

* * *

 

After the movie (some cowboy movie, chosen by Cas, that Dean _loved_ but didn’t remember the name of) and lunch, Cas left them to nap.

Dean knew that he should nap—he was kind of tired—but he had something much more important to do.

Dean stared at Sammy, concentrating so hard that his lips were tightly pressed together, and the skin between his eyebrows was pinched. On an older Dean, this face may have been unnerving to the many monsters the Winchesters have faced. On toddler Dean, it looked quite funny—at least Sam thought so as he giggled and reached for his brother.

Dean had already made a big step in talking again as he could say ‘Cas’ pretty much whenever he wanted, not that he spoke much anyway. His other words were still broken, but Dean wanted to fix that. He wanted to teach Sammy to talk so that he could talk to someone other than Daddy (or Cas).

“Nn...S…”

If only he could get the words out!

How was Sammy going to learn his name if Dean couldn’t say it?

Dean’s face turned pink with effort. He raised his fist and pounded it against his head. Maybe if he hit it right, his words would be fixed, like the TV when it got staticky until Daddy hit it.

“Ss...ah…” Dean’s voice croaked with disuse.

Sammy looked up at Dee curiously. Dee was making funny sounds, which was strange to the baby. Dee never made funny noises (minus the last few days, but Sammy didn’t know of the concept of time).

“Ss...ah...mm. Sah...mmy. S-Sammy.” Dean coughed. “Sammy. Sammy!”

Sammy gurgled happily and wriggled in Dee’s lap. Sammy recognized those sounds! Da made those sounds when he made noises at Sammy!

Dean hugged Sammy close, burying his face in the baby’s chest as he rasped his name over and over.

“Good job, Dean.”

Dean startled. His head shot up and stared at the door where Cas stood. Dean’s eyes lowered down to the blanket guiltily.

Cas frowned and stepped toward the bed, but stopped when Dean flinched. “You are not in trouble, Dean. I do not mind that you did not sleep and instead focused on saying Sam’s name.” He took a cautious step forward and, when Dean didn’t flinch back, laid a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “I am proud of you. This is a very difficult time for you, and I am glad you are learning to speak again.”

Dean blushed and looked down at his lap. Why was the angel being so nice to him? The angel didn’t even really know him. Or maybe he did. Cas _was_ an angel—he probably knew _everything_.

Cas watched Dean for a moment before speaking. “I do not believe you will be resting anytime soon. Would you like to join me in the library?”

Dean nodded and slid off the bed. He reached for Sammy, but his hands were gently blocked by Cas.

“Sam still needs to rest. I read that resting during the day is important for an infant’s development and will prevent him from becoming overtired, which can lead to mood changes and difficulty in falling asleep at night.”

Dean stared at Cas blankly.

Cas sighed, wondering if this was how Dean felt when he did not understand a reference. “Sam needs to sleep, so he cannot come to the library with us.”

Dean nodded in understanding and grabbed Cas’s hand. They walked to the library, where Dean made a beeline for his cars, which were scattered around the floor a few feet from the table Cas usually sat at. Cas made to sit at the table when he suddenly felt Dean’s hand tugging at his own.

He turned to look down at the boy in surprise. “Yes, Dean?”

Dean had a determined look on his face as he tugged at Cas’s hand once more. “Cas.”

Cas quirked an eyebrow. “Do you want me to follow you?” At Dean’s nod, Cas let him drag him towards the toy cars. Dean sat among his cars and, when Cas continued to stand, gestured for the angel to sit across from him. Cas sat awkwardly and crossed his legs. Once he was settled, Dean held out a yellow car to Cas and grabbed a black car for himself. Cas examined the car while Dean took his and crashed it into Sam’s stuffed dog.

Cas watched, fascinated, as Dean crashed the car into the dog over and over. The boy eventually looked up when he realized the angel wasn’t playing with him. He pouted and pushed the dog towards Cas. Dean made sure Cas was watching him before crashing his car into the dog. He pushed the dog towards Cas again.

“...” Cas glanced between Dean and the stuffed dog before hesitantly sliding the car into the dog. At Dean’s blinding smile, Cas repeated the action, his movements more confident. Dean grinned, satisfied and resumed slamming his car into the dog. Cas did not understand the point of this activity, but it made Dean happy, so Cas continued as well.

After a few more minutes of crashing cars and Dean throwing the dog around (including at the cars), Cas gave into his curiosity. “Dean, why are we attacking the dog?”

Dean paused, the dog in his hand inches from hitting the car. His eyes darted between Cas and the dog. He licked his lips and bowed his head shyly. Cas had to strain to hear his whispered reply. “B...bad.”

Cas tilted his head. “The dog is bad?”

Dean nodded his head and then shook it. He lifted his head and stared at the dog. Cas was taken aback by the intense emotion in the boy’s eyes. “Nn..Nah…”

“No?” Cas asked.

Dean clenched his teeth in frustration and shook his head harder. “Nah...Not…” Dean huffed and suddenly stood, making his way over to the pile of paper and crayons on the floor before bringing some back. He grabbed a black crayon and drew shape that vaguely looked like a person to Cas, albeit with badly drawn claws and sharp teeth. Dean finished the drawing with yellow eyes and held it up to Cas. When Cas still looked confused, Dean pointed at the dog and then at the drawing.

Cas was silent for a moment, trying to figure out what Dean was trying to say, when an idea clicked. “You are saying that the dog is a monster?” Cas peered closer at the picture. “A...werewolf?”

Dean’s eyes lit up with excitement and relief, happy that Cas understood, and nodded eagerly. He didn’t notice the conflicted expression Cas wore as he went back to fighting the ‘monster.’

Was Dean regaining memories? It was possible, but it he also could have learned it from his father. Would John Winchester have already figured out about werewolves at this point in Dean’s life, as well as have told the boy about it? There was also the factor that werewolves were prominent in the media, and Dean may just be using it because the stuffed dog was available to play with and could be easily acquainted to a werewolf? Maybe a combination of both? Knowing that his father ‘fought’ monsters and that werewolves were monsters in films, Dean may have just connected one to the other. Dean choosing the black car, which looked close to the Impala but not exact, for himself did not escape Cas’s notice. But did it represent him or his father?

Plenty of theories, but no way to prove them, not clearly at least with Dean’s lack of speech and regressed higher understanding.

The first theory was troubling, and Cas hoped that it was not true. The Winchesters’ memories were traumatizing for any human (or angel, Cas thought as he remembered his stay in the psychiatric hospital)—the trauma it could cause a child was astounding, and the strain on the underdeveloped mind would surely lead to the child’s death.

Cas couldn’t even imagine what the memories would do to an infant like Sam.

_Dear Father, do not let it be my first theory._

“I believe it is about time for Sam’s nap to end.” Cas stood and held his hand out to Dean. “Perhaps we can visit the park again.”

Cas let a small smile slip out at Dean’s eager nod and let the boy take his hand. As much as Cas wanted to fix his friends, he could admit that Dean seemed so much happier in this form. Obviously, he was still recovering from the death of his mother, but he was still so innocent. He hasn’t been raised as a hunter yet—hasn’t had to raise his brother on his own. He hasn’t lost Sam to Death, gone to Hell, fought Lucifer, and all of the other experiences the Winchesters have unfortunately faced.

But the world needed them, as unfair as it was, so Cas would make their time as children as enjoyable as he was able to.

Cas heard the beginnings of Sam’s cries as he made his way toward Dean’s room and let out a sigh. As much as he wanted his friends to enjoy their time as innocent children, he did hope they would be fixed soon.

He could only take so much crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to send me prompts, questions, or just talk to me at browniesarethebest.tumblr.com


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's almost 2 AM here but whatever. I need to stop napping during the day.
> 
> Also sorry for the late update! Writer's block has been a bitch. I do think this will only have one more chapter though. Thanks for all of your support!

Cas once again found himself on the park bench with Sam while Dean ran around with the other children. Dean did not speak, but that did not seem to bother his playmates. Sam began to whine, causing Cas to glance down at him.

“You are hungry?” The baby, of course, didn’t reply. Cas had started to learn Sam’s tells and dutifully dug out a bottle of formula from the bag beside him. Sam grasped the bottle as soon as it was near him and began to drink.

Cas’s head snapped up as screams filled the playground. He immediately stood and sprinted with the other parents towards the kids, who were all sobbing and surrounding another child. Cas quickly scanned the children, feeling his heart seize when he couldn’t find Dean.

“Dean?” Cas swiveled his head around, but there was no sign of the boy. Turning back to the children, he pushed through them to the shell-shocked boy they surrounded and knelt. “What happened?”

The boy looked up with terrified eyes. “It was a monster.”

Cas’s stomach dropped. “What did it look like?”

“I—” The boy glanced around nervously as he fiddled with his shirt. “It looked like a lady, but then she grabbed Dean’s arm really hard. Dean tried to get away, and I tried to help, but…” The boy let out a mixture of a sob and a gasp. “The lady held out her other hand, and I couldn’t _breathe_ and her eyes turned black and—and—”

Castiel was pushed away by the boy’s mother, but he did not care. He stood, absentmindedly comforting the now crying Sam as he made his way back to their stuff. He picked up the diaper bag and pulled out his phone as he quickly walked towards the car.

“Crowley, you have some explaining to do.”

 

* * *

 

Dean looked around the dark, dungeon-like room, his arms wrapped around his body. He and the mean lady had appeared here like Castiel did in the bunker, which made Dean think she might have been an angel, but angels weren’t supposed to be mean! The lady had left him in the room and locked the door. There were no windows either, so Dean couldn’t leave.

Dean sat on the floor and brought his knees to his chest. He tried to hold back his tears. The lady was probably one of those monsters Daddy had talked about, which meant that his Daddy would come save him soon.

And...And if not, Cas would come save him. Cas was strong and an angel and could defeat any monster!

He hoped Sammy was okay. His brother had been with Cas, so the mean lady probably wouldn’t be able to get him.

Dean heard the door creak open and looked up to see the lady and two strange men walking in the room. At the sight of Dean, one of the men turned to the woman. “You sure this is him?”

The woman scoffed. “Of course I’m sure. I saw the angel arrive with him. He wouldn’t even take his eyes off the brat until the other one starting whining.”

The other man sneered at Dean. “Oh, this is too good. Dean Winchester, reduced to a sniveling toddler.”

Dean hunched down, watching the trio warily. He didn’t know how they knew his name, but he was more worried by the looks they were giving him. They were monsters, right? Did that mean they were going to eat him?

His lip wobbled at the thought.

The first man noticed and grinned. “Aw, is the little hunter going to cry?”

Dean shook his head vigorously and tried to speak bravely. “C...Cas...gon’...gon’—”

The woman cackled. “Look at him! He can barely speak!” She crouched down with a smirk. “Where’s all that Winchester bravado now, baby?”

Dean trembled. “I—”

“You know, I kind of miss the hunter talking back.” The second man said, cutting Dean off. “It at least was entertaining to hear.”

“And this isn’t?” The first man asked. “Watching one of the most feared hunters in the world crying at our feet?”

“ _I_ like it.” The woman replied. She swiped a finger across Dean’s wet face and brought it to her tongue. “Never has a hunter’s tears been more delicious.”

“So how are we going to do this?” The first man rubbed his hands with glee. “There are so many things I’ve wanted to do to the Winchesters. What should we start with? Ripping his fingernails out? Flaying? Dismemberment?”

The woman opened her mouth to answer but was interrupted by the doors bursting in. Castiel stormed into the room, his blade already out and covered in the blood of the now dead demons in the hall.

Dean’s face lit up. Cas was here to save him! “Cas!”

Cas took a moment to look over Dean, his eyes narrowing in anger as he zeroed in on the bruises marring the boy’s arms and face. He spoke as the two male demons stepped forward. “Let me leave with him, and you shall not die tonight.” He turned his head toward the woman. “Only she will if you do not interfere.”

The two male demons looked at each other before quickly surrounding the angel, sneering. Cas looked between them and jabbed towards the one on his right, but the demon blocked it. The other demon made to punch Cas in the head, but Cas grabbed the fist with his free hand and flung the other demon into the first.

The fight was quickly over after that. Cas managed to kill the second demon with a quick stab from his angel blade. The first demon rolled away and jumped up but was not quick enough to avoid being slammed into the wall, The angel blade was plunged into his chest, his face lit up, and he was dead.

Cas turned to deal with the female demon and found Dean held up in her arms with a knife at his throat. “Ah ah ah, Castiel. We wouldn’t want the baby hunter to get hurt now, do we?”

“Let him go.” Cas, growled, holding up his blade.

“Take one step closer, and his throat will have a nice, long slice across it.” She nicked the skin on Dean’s throat, causing the boy to whimper as a drop of blood beaded on the wound.

Cas glared. “Is it really so worthy to kill Dean Winchester in this form? You can be the revered demon that finally killed Dean Winchester—again, because Lilith took that title first—but when the other demons find out that he was a defenseless child when the deed was done? They will realize that any demon could have done it, and your accomplishment will be worthless.”

By the time Cas was done speaking, the demon was shaking with anger. She didn’t want to believe that the angel was right— _no_ , she refused to believe the angel was right! She will kill Dean Winchester, and there will be no way for him to be brought back with that brother of his being nothing more than a drooling sack of meat that couldn’t even speak.

She glanced down at Dean, her arm tensing in preparation to slit the boy’s throat, and Cas took his chance. He lunged forward and thrust the blade through her neck. She choked, her skin lighting up with orange sparks, and collapsed. Cas caught Dean before he could hit the ground and held the boy close to him. Dean desperately clung back.

“It is all right, Dean. I have you now. You are safe.”

Dean burst into tears. “C-Cas…”

Cas maneuvered around the bodies toward the door, making sure to keep Dean’s head firmly against his shoulder so the boy wouldn’t see the bodies, and made his way to the front of the complex the demons had been hiding in. Once he stepped through the front door, he was free from the warding that kept him from flying and took off for the Bunker. Once they landed, he set Dean down carefully, who wobbled from the trip.

Cas knelt and carefully placed his hands on Dean’s shoulders. “Are you all right, Dean? Are you hurt anywhere?”

Dean shook his head and looked up at the angel hopefully. “Sammy?”

Cas let go of Dean and stood. “Yes, of course. You want to see your brother. He’s in your room napping.” Cas held out his hand. “Come, I’ll take you to him.”

Dean slipped his hand in Cas’s and nearly dragged the angel in his haste to check on his brother. Dean made a beeline for the bed as soon as they reached the room and sighed in relief at the sight of his baby brother sleeping. He gently climbed onto the bed, making sure not to jostle the bed and wake up Sammy, and fussed with the pillows so the baby wouldn’t accidentally roll off. He pulled the blanket up to his brother’s chin and sat back, his jaw cracking with a yawn. He jumped when a hand landed on his back.

“You should rest, Dean. You have had a difficult day.”

Dean nodded with another yawn and carefully climbed under the covers next to his brother. He grabbed Cas’s sleeve as the angel made to leave. “St-Stay. Please.”

Cas hesitated before sitting on the edge of the bed. “Of course, Dean.”

Dean closed his eyes but didn’t let go of Cas’s sleeve. He didn’t think the angel would leave, but Dean wanted the security of knowing he was there. He would sleep easier knowing the angel was there to protect them.

Cas watched Dean slip off into sleep. The boy’s grip on his arm loosened, and Cas pulled away, though he did rest his hand on Dean’s blanketed foot.

He was glad Dean had asked him to stay. Cas hadn’t wanted to leave, but he remembered that Adult Dean didn’t like him watching the man while he slept. It seemed Child Dean had no such qualms, and Cas would take full advantage of that. He never wanted Dean to leave his sight again. He didn’t even want Dean (or Sam) to leave the Bunker again. They were safest here.

Heaven above, was this what parents felt like? How did they do it every day?

Cas shook his head and tightened his grip slightly on Dean’s foot. Sam and Dean would be back to normal soon, and he would go back to only mildly worrying about his friends when they got hurt on hunts. The worry then was nothing compared to when they got hurt as children.

Rowena better have that counterspell soon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feel free to send me prompts or just talk to me at browniesarethebest.tumblr.com


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally! Every time I felt like I was getting close to finishing this, I realized I was further and further away from the end. This took forever to write, but it's done! I'll be posting a new Supernatural series soonish after this, so check it out when I do!
> 
> I hope you've all enjoyed this fic! I certainly have!

It had been a few days since Dean had been kidnapped. While Dean had nightmares, he did not seem as traumatized by the incident, compared to mother’s death at least.

“Cas!” Dean ran up to said angel and tugged him over to his toys. “Play!”

Cas was just happy Dean hadn’t regressed back to silence.

Dean sat down on a blanket that held Sammy and his toys, tugging Cas down with him. There were a few new toys among the mess—Castiel’s attempt at forgiveness for letting Dean out of his sight. Dean had been especially ecstatic to receive the Batman action figure. Said action figure was currently being used to beat the stuffed dog, Dean’s tongue sticking out in concentration as he played.

Cas suddenly found the Superman action figure thrust in his face. He blinked and glanced down at Dean. When Cas didn’t move, Dean pouted and waved the toy. Cas focused back on the toy and hesitantly took it, causing Dean to beam.

Dean held up the stuffed dog. “Werewoof!”

Cas nodded seriously. “We are fighting the werewolf again?”

“Ya! Bad werewoof!”

‘Fighting’ the werewolf was relatively simple. As long as Cas hit the dog with the action figure, Dean seemed to be happy, yelling out his own sound effects. The easy play allowed Cas to focus his thoughts elsewhere.

Dean had recovered remarkably in the past few days. He still didn’t speak in full sentences, but he was much more open and unafraid to speak. Cas was happy. It was nice to see Dean enjoying being a child before the curse was lifted. 

He was curious about one thing though…

“Why did you specify that the dog is a bad werewolf?” Cas asked.

Dean frowned and held the dog up to his face, squinting at the stuffed animal. After a moment, he shrugged and looked up at the Cas. “Dunno.” He looked over at Sammy, who was slobbering on another stuffed dog (Sam had also gotten new toys to play with so that Dean wouldn’t give his up for his brother), and pointed. “Good werewoof.”

Cas only grew more confused. “Why is that one a good werewolf?”

Dean shrugged again. “Garf good.”

“Garf?”

But Dean had become impatient with the conversation (not to mention cranky from the headache that had suddenly come on) and had gone back to hitting the dog with Batman.

Cas had a feeling that this was a memory coming through again—Dean had to be talking about Garth. Cas had been thinking on his theories from when Dean had first mentioned werewolves to him, and he had determined that some memories had not been fully locked away. How else would Dean have known to pray to him at the witch’s home?

They did not seem to be bad memories, at least—more minor information that his future self knew than actual memories. Cas was thankful for that. He would not have known how to deal with a small child with memories of being tortured in Hell.

Cas felt a tug on his sleeve and looked down at Dean, who was pouting up at him. “No play?”

“I apologize, Dean. I was merely thinking. Of course I will play with you.”

Cas spent the next twenty minutes playing with Dean. At some point, Sam had been brought into the game. Dean had shown the baby how to hit the ‘bad’ werewolf, which Sam had delighted in, using ‘Garf’ to do so. Lunch followed the game and then a nap. Sam and Dean were still sleeping when Rowena called.

“Castiel, dear! I’ve gathered all of the ingredients for the counterspell. I’ll be at the Bunker in just a few hours to perform it.” There was a pause. “You do still need it, don’t you? You haven’t killed the wee boys yet, have you?”

Cas suppressed the urge to sigh. “No, Rowena. I have not killed them yet.” He was not going to mention that one of them had been kidnapped on his watch, however.

“Hm. Well, enjoy your last few hours with them before they turn back to their big, lumbering selves. Ta!” Rowena hung up, leaving Cas frowning.

Cas missed his friends and desperately wanted them back, of course. They had been through many trials (and apocalypses) together, and that had created a bond that Cas cherished, even when Sam and Dean were at their most frustrating. Cas considered the Winchesters family—more than most of his siblings at this point. Now that they were gone, he felt…alone.

But the Winchesters had also had a childhood that left a lot to be desired. John Winchester had tried what he considered his best, but more often than not, he put hunting over his children, leaving them alone in rundown motels with little to no money for necessities. Dean would grow up to become his father’s soldier, and Sam would grow up yearning to be out of the life, only to be violently dragged back in. Cas could not change their history, but he could give their current child selves a fun day before turning them back into their adult selves—without going outside of course. Cas wasn’t going to risk that again, not when the boys were so close to being changed back.

“Cas?” Cas turned his head and found Dean standing by the entrance to the library with Sam lying in his arms.

Cas pasted a smile on his face and stood. “Hello, Dean. Did you enjoy your nap?”

Dean nodded and padded over to Cas, smiling up at the angel. He handed Sammy to Cas, who knowingly took the baby and zapped him a new diaper. Dean giggled as Sammy’s eyes blew open with surprise and his mouth dropped open in a small ‘o’.

It was nice to wake up and have someone waiting for him. Sometimes, Daddy would say that he would be back by the time Dean woke up in the morning, but he wasn’t always, and that made Dean sad and scared. Dean did his best to take care of Sammy then, but it wasn’t easy, and when Sammy cried Dean felt like a bad brother. It didn’t help that he was always afraid that this time Daddy wouldn’t come back whenever those times happened.

Cas wasn’t there that one time a few nights ago, but Dean could forgive him. Cas was an angel, so he was probably off doing important angel things. Dean could understand that.

“What would you like to do today, Dean? We can do whatever you want—as long as we stay inside.” Cas smiled apologetically. “After what happened at the park, I am hesitant to risk you out in the open until...I am sure they are no longer focused on you.”

Dean nodded seriously, shuddering at the thought of the scary people with black eyes. He didn’t really want to go out so soon after what happened too. He scrunched his nose, his eyes lifting towards the ceiling as he thought of what he wanted to do that could be done indoors. An idea immediately popped into his head, and he looked towards Cas, his eyes lighting up.

“Pie! In bed!” Now, did he want to watch a movie while he ate it, or did he want Cas to read to him and Sammy?

The corners of Cas’s lips lifted up. Dean’s love of pie never changed, no matter what age he was. “What kind of pie would you like?”

“Um…” Dean was once again glancing up at the ceiling. “Cherry!”

Cas smiled and set Sam down on his blanket before he flew away to get Dean’s pie. When he reappeared, Dean beamed and immediately reached for the pie. Cas handed the pie to Dean and then picked Sam up.

“Movie?” Dean asked. “In bed?”

“Of course, Dean. Anything you want.” Cas led the way to Sam’s room—where the TV was. He set Sam on the bed and helped Dean up before sitting beside the boy (who pulled Sam into his lap) and turning on the TV. Dean was already digging into the pie, feeding bits of the gooey filling to Sammy and shoving large chunks into his mouth with his hands. He was becoming a mess—his hands, face, clothes, and the blanket becoming sticky with pie—but no one seemed to mind. Cas would clean it up before Sam returned to normal and found the mess in his bed.

Dean pointed eagerly to some movie called ‘Ghostbusters’ that looked cool, and they all settled in.

 

* * *

 

Cas heard the door to the bunker open.

It was time.

“I will be right back.” Cas left Dean and Sam to watch TV and made his way to the war room, where Rowena was already setting up the ingredients for the counterspell.

“You’re sure this will work?” Cas asked as he came up behind her. Rowena rolled her eyes.

“I’m the smartest and most powerful witch in the world. If I don’t get this right, no other witch will.” Her eyes darted towards the angel before focusing back on making sure everything was in place.

“Then you better get it right.”

“Cas?”

Cas and Rowena turned and found Dean staring from the doorway, Sam in his arms. He glanced between the two adults nervously. His foot twitched forward to take a step before he aborted the movement.

Dean remembered the red-haired lady from the park, but that didn’t mean he trusted her. He didn’t like her smile—it didn’t feel like Mommy’s or even Daddy’s when Dean knew he was lying. Cas didn’t seem to like her very much either. Cas was an angel, so he probably knew who was good and who was bad. But if he didn’t like the lady, why was she here?

Rowena’s lips twitched when she noticed Dean covered in what looked like jelly but didn’t say anything as she crouched and began to paint symbols onto the floor. “I’m just about ready. Say your goodbyes and what not.”

Dean blanched. 

Goodbye?

“Dean—” Cas internally flinched as Dean took a step back. “I am returning you both to your father now.”

Dean paused, eyes widening. He could see his Daddy again? Did that mean the bad thing that got Mommy had been stopped? Could—Could they go home now?

Dean hesitantly made his way over to Cas, his eyes on the strange woman the entire time. His lip wobbled as his eyes met Cas’s.

“You come?” Dean asked.

Had he been asked this question when he first met Dean, he would have immediately answered ‘No’—or explained that Dean was not actually going anywhere, which would probably have confused the boy. Now, though, he answered truthfully but in a way that would comfort Dean.

“I will be with you. Always.”

Dean smiled, eyes welling up with tears. He was going to have his Daddy and his angel. The only thing that could make this better was if his Mommy was going to be with them too.

“It is ready.” Rowena said as she stood and wiped her dress. She gestured for Dean to get into the circle of symbols. “Come, dearie. Sit in the circle.”

Dean glanced nervously at Cas but obeyed at his reassuring nod. As he sat in the circle, Rowena looked up at the angel.

“You may want to grab a few blankets. Those clothes will not be growing with them.”

Cas nodded and quickly left to grab the blankets, knowing Dean would not want to be left with Rowena for long. When he returned, he draped them across the boys, one across Sam’s body and the other around Dean’s shoulders.

Cas stepped back and Rowena began the spell. Cas watched Dean, who stared back. Cas felt like he should say something—the Winchesters would have said something—but he couldn’t think of the right words.

But Dean did.

Dean raised his hand to his face, his fingers touching the edge of his chin, before bringing it out, just as Natalie had taught him.

_Thank you._

 

* * *

 

Dean woke with a gasp and found a strange weight across his lap. Looking down, he let out a shout and scrambled back, just managing to keep the blanket around his shoulders before moving it to cover himself. 

Why the hell was he naked?

Why the _hell_ was Sam naked and lying on him?

Sam suddenly groaned. “Dean?” He started to sit up, realized he felt a breeze in places he most definitely should not have felt a breeze, looked down, and scrambled back as well. “What the hell?”

“Welcome back, boys.” Their heads whipped to the side to see Rowena and Cas standing next to each other. Rowena was smirking while Cas just looked relieved.

“What the hell happened?” Dean asked, bewildered. “Last thing I remember was fighting a witch—”

“—who cursed you into children and tried to keep you as her own children.” Cas said. “Somehow, you remembered my name and prayed for me to save you and Sam. I brought you back to the bunker and cared for you while Rowena came up with a counterspell.”

Dean raised his eyebrows. “Damn. And you didn’t accidentally kill us?”

Cas’s gentle smile immediately soured. Why did everyone think he was going to kill them?

“Dean.” Sam chided, though he was also surprised—Cas didn’t exactly have experience with children. He turned to Cas and Rowena and smiled. “Thank you for your help.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Dean stood, keeping the blanket wrapped around himself. “Well, I’m gonna go put some clothes on because this—” Dean gestured to the four of them with a finger. “—just no.”

“Mm, are you sure?” Rowena asked, eyes obviously focused on Sam.

Dean wrinkled his nose. “Yeah, no. Never gonna get _that_ image out of my head.”

Dean strode quickly out of the room. Sam awkwardly at the two again, throwing back another “thanks” as he left for his own room.

“ _Well_ , as much as I’d _love_ to stick around, I’ve things to do, people to curse.” Rowena spoke as she packed the remains of the spell. “Glad to see the boys back to their giant selves. The world needs them, as loathe as I am to admit it.” She winked at Cas and turned, sashaying up the stairs and out the door. “Ta!”

The door shut with a resounding clang, leaving Cas alone in the war room. Cas didn’t move, content to wait for his friends to come back.

Sam poked his head into the room first, his face twisted in confusion.

“Uh, Cas? Why is my bed covered pie?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it! I hope this was a satisfying ending, and feel free to send me prompts or talk to me at browniesarethebest.tumblr.com!

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to talk to me at browniesarethebest.tumblr.com


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